


Imperfectly

by Gambe



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Mpreg, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gambe/pseuds/Gambe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Victoria is sure of, is that she's a freak. Her own parents gave her up when they realized just how big their mistake was, her instructor hates her with everything she has, and nothing ever seems to turn out right for her. When Victoria - half Warlock, half Shadowhunter - accidentally rises the tension between her and the Clave, she finds herself in the quest she never asked for to find who she truly is and what's her story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Not a sound could be heard from that one apartment in Brooklyn. Unlike that morning, when painful screams and begs for mercy could be heard through the walls, silence was the king. It ruled the place with so much majesty that not even the wind dared to take it down. 

In what once was a guest room, a place decorated in soft shades of gold and black where the craziest things happened during countless parties, now rested a crib. It was painted in delicate pink. Flowers forming a dome that protected from above the little body resting inside. It was a beautiful creation where entwined flowers created a very colourful sky. The walls, now soft white instead of gold, had runes painted on it. Part of its resident’s bloodline.

Also inside, a young couple guarded the child’s sleep with a smile on their lips. They had struggled too much to create that perfect junction of their matching souls. True love accomplished anything, even the impossible. That baby girl was the proof. 

Suddenly, the sound of an angry hand slamming wood frenetically echoed through the walls. Blue and gold eyes took a break from their very own master piece to follow the unpleasant sound. The silence was welcoming and too comfortable to decline. 

“I’ll go” The tallest of the two said, a sigh coming from his nude lips. He planted a kiss on the sleeping girl’s forehead, doing the same with the man next to him. 

The gold eyed man rested his hand on the knob before actually opening it. He soon realized that he should have never unlocked that door. The massive group of bodies that irrupted through his front door was enough to make him regret his unconscious decision. 

He knew they would show up. Since the beginning that he feared the day when those hooded figures would come with all their power and majesty to steal his happiness. They were ready to take what wasn’t theirs and claim it as their own. 

“Hide her! Run!” The blue eyed man heard from the voice he trusted the most.

Even before that order, the boy had already taken the baby girl from her sleeping sanctuary and placed her in the bed that was his own arms. She nestled there, knowing that place belonged to her. Only a couple hours old, she could already recognize her father’s arms as a safe place. The boy didn’t have time to appreciate that moment though. The noises that came from a not so far away part of the house indicated that a fight was happening. 

Blue sparkles danced on the other side of the now closed bedroom door, matching the shouts of determination and pain. The blue eyed man could only imagine what his partner was going through. And though all his instincts told him to go help his husband, his heart knew that his love also belonged to the girl in his arms. And because she was much more helpless, his protection was all hers. 

Fear could be heard as it ran inside both man’s veins; loud, pulsing and impossible to ignore. Fear for the one thing they shared and were afraid to lose. And though they were apart, their fight was the same; and so were the consequences. 

On the other side of the door, the shouts had finally stopped. That only made the blue eyed man’s heart beat faster. His lover’s screams could only be shut in one of two ways. Surrender or death, and none of them were acceptable. 

The thought made him hold the baby closer to him in hope that his loving, racing heart would be enough to protect her. It was all he had at the moment.

A kick on the door was all it took to open it. It fell on the floor, cracked, but no one seemed to notice. 

“Grab her!” One of the figures shouted. There were about ten of them, and there was nothing the man could do. Run away was impossible with so many bodies blocking the passage and the window was way too far from the ground to jump with a baby in his arms. 

“Please…” The blue eyed man begged. “Not my daughter.” A tear ran down his cheek as he spoke, like salty water could warm such sadist hearts. The tear fell on the babies’ cheek, like it was her own. At least she would have a part of her family craved in her skin, as a reminder of who she truly was; a Shadowhunter with magic powers, the product of a Nephilim and a child of Lilith. Something never seen before and therefore, coveted by the Clave. 

Before the blue eyed man could fight back, the little girl was no longer in his arms, feeling empty and cold without that light weight on them. “She’s mine! You have no right to take her!” The man shouted, throwing himself at the figure that protected the one carrying the child. A woman maybe, judging by the small, narrow figure it had. He confirmed when the hooded figure spoke:

“She’s not natural. This child is an abomination, a freak. She needs special care and an education that only the Clave can offer her.” 

The world around the blue eyed man seemed to slow down as he moved. He could see himself pin the hooded woman to the floor and kill her right there. His intentions were clear; do the same with the others and take back what had been taken from him. 

Before he could actually put that into action, his bones froze, stealing his movements. His brain seemed like the only functional part of him at the moment and not even that one could work correctly when panic was the gas. 

“Just one more thing.” The same woman said with an amusing tone on her voice, as she turned to the human statue. “If you ever try to look for her, you’ll have nothing to find.” 

As he saw the figures leave the apartment, taking his most precious thing with them, the man couldn’t help but feel helpless and lost. He had a million things on his mind, but there was one louder and higher than all others. 

Victoria


	2. Chapter 2

“Come on! I don’t have all day!” Alice shouted with a beat of her bat on the floor, loud enough to echo through the walls of the large training room.

Victoria’s arms were starting to cramp due to the effort they were making to support her body, certainly announcing soreness in the morning. About 33 feet above the ground, Victoria struggled with her sweaty hands that threatened to slip every time she tried to reach the next bar. Even without a net, water, or something that would support her body in case she fell, that height wouldn’t killed her. It would injure her badly enough to have to heal a broken arm or leg though. Alice wouldn’t be pleased with it, and bother that woman was the last thing Victoria wanted.

One by one, Victoria managed to make it till the end almost intact, where a ladder waited for her as some sort of forced reward.

Once om the ground, Victoria let herself fall onto it, where she stood on her stomach for a while, trying to control her breath. After more than two hours of training under Alice’s controlling and harsh looks, her lungs were starting to beg for air more frequently and her mouth salivated at the thought of fresh water.

“Sometimes you look like a beginner.” Alice almost shouted with another beat of her bat. “If this is what I get each time I give you a week to camp with Peter, then I’ll start to forbid it!”

Victoria seared at the ceiling, as far from her as the actual stars that inspired the ones painted on it. She wanted to count them, but the darkness of the room didn’t help with the task. Alice had made her decorate each one of them when Victoria was a little girl, so it wasn’t hard to distinguish the stars under the dim light of the single pair of high lamps.

“Alright! I see that talking to you today is about the same as talking to a door, so I’ll just let you lay there for the rest of the day if you want. But I hope you know that tomorrow it will be twice as hard as it was today.”

Without further warnings, Alice let her heals walk her out of the training room, closing the heavy door behind her with a loud bang.  
The motive why her body hadn’t taken that basic training wasn’t the days she had spent in the floret with Peter, enjoying the fresh air instead of working on their training; it was the half hour she had slept last night due to the late practice she had, perfecting the art of making portals.

Since Victoria could remember that she had been trained to be a Shadowhunter; trains, studding the grey book from first page to last, and learn the Shadow World history. That was her mission. In the middle of all that, magic was forbidden. Alice had told her that was the reason why her parents had abandoned her, leaving her at the door of the Institute on a rainy night of December.

Magic is the warlock’s curse, not the Shadowhunters’.

Victoria had heard Alice saying that so many times that she was afraid the message would stick. Victoria might hater her parents, but she didn’t hate the gift they had cursed her with.

∞

After a deserved bath, her thick black hair still wet dripping the floor, Victoria got in the kitchen where she knew Peter was waiting for her. But what she didn’t expect to find was her best friend dressed in one of Mrs Daly’s aprons.

“By the angel, what are you doing?” Victoria asked with a laugh, running to the island counter where she sat down.

“Cooking, can’t you see it?” Peter replied, never taking his eyes from the saucepan he had in front of him. He was staring at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Probably alerted by the sound of Victoria’s voice, Mrs Daly took her head out of the oven that she so desperately tried to lighten and turned to Victoria with a warm smile. It wiped off as soon as she land her eyes of the recent arrived girl though.

“What have I told you about sitting on the counter? And that hair! Please go dry it, you’re wetting my floor!” Mrs Daly complained as usual.  
Despise all the lectures Mrs Daly gave her about the mud on her shoes and the clothes all over her bedroom floor, Victoria finds in that old lady with sweet blue eyes the mother she never had.

Hopping down the counter, Victoria ran to her favourite and only house keeper and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry. I promise that I won’t do it next time.” Victoria said, repeating what she had been saying for the last 20 years of her life.

“Yes, miss, I already know your speech. At the end of the day though, you end up doing the exact same thing.” Mrs Daly gave her a smile and walked back to that stove that never seemed to work properly. Until that day, Victoria never understood why wouldn’t Mrs. Dally replace it. “Actually, that applies to you both. Mr Eadwine is no saint either.”

Peter, who was laughing at the lecture Victoria was receiving at same time held an intense staring at the saucepan, let his chuckling die in his throat with the comment.

“What are you doing anyway?” Victoria asked, walking around Peter so she could peek over his shoulder. “There is nothing but water in there.”

With a sigh and a roll of eyes that Victoria could feel due to years of experience, Peter shifted the weight of his body from one foot to the other, supporting is arms on the counter. “I know that’s just water. I’m waiting for it to boil.”

“I already tried to tell him that the process isn’t going to be faster just because he’s staring at it, but he doesn’t want to listen!” Mr Daly’s said, her voice echoing in the walls inside the old stove.

“I can help you with that” Victoria offered with a shrug.

Making water boil couldn’t be that hard. After all, Victoria would only have to use her magic to heat the metal a bit, just enough to warm the water to the right temperature and then see it dance right in front of her eyes.

“Step aside” Alerted by Victoria’s warning, Peter turned his attention to her. He had a worried look in his eyes, way too familiar to Victoria. Peter would always look at her like that if he thought she was doing something reckless. Meaning: he had that look on his face almost 24/7.

“I know what you’re thinking and I strongly advice you not to do it.”

After almost 15 years of living together, Peter should know better than tell Victoria what to do. When she had something in mind, there was nothing one could say or do to take her head out of the goal. Not even her best friend that always seemed to be her consciousness, whispering the right decisions in her ear. It was her decision whether to follow such advice or not.

As usual, the tickling feeling started in her chest where her heart must be and spread through her whole body. It was like a force of nature, irrupting from her heart and threatening to open a hole on her skin in order to fly free. A part of her that had been asleep for way too long deep inside her soul, eager to show itself to the world. Blue, bright and powerful; that was how her magic wanted to present itself to the world.

Looking inside Peter’s clear green eyes, Victoria could see the reflection of her very own power. The blue sparks that steamed from her palms, kissing them like cold air in a chilly night of November, slid through the marble floor and to the inside of the saucepan.

Once again, Victoria tried to prove Peter that magic wasn’t as bad as Alice tried to paint it. It could be fun and useful. It could make things grow, save them; give them a life.

Lost in between thoughts, Victoria didn’t notice it when blue thunders started to fly and ricochet in between those four walls. Around her, powerful masses of her own energy boiled the water to evaporation, making it hard to see what was happening around there.

Victoria didn’t need to see though. All that mattered in that moment was the way her own power burned her hands, her arms, her legs; any bare skin it could find. How it seemed to hug her body, warming it hotter instead of the water.  
That was her power connecting to her body, creating a reaction that could only be trigged by one of the most powerful minds of the universe. But power always comes with a price.

∞

After what felt like seconds, Victoria felt something poking her back. It took her a while to realize that she was no longer in the kitchen. The air around her was cold, the steam no longer prepped her skin with kisses and it was all too quiet.

There was only one room in the whole Institute that could reach such state of silence.

In a hop, Victoria stood up, kicking the rock that had hurt her back in the process. The sudden move made her head spin and hurt. The floor seemed to dance under her feet, making it hard to stand still.

Suddenly, the floor wasn’t a problem anymore. There was a hand holding her arm tightly. The grip was so harsh that new fingerprints would certainly adorn her arm in the morning.

“I thought I had been very clear about the use of magic.” A voice whispered in her ear. It was soft and yet it so harsh, the perfect melody of Victoria’s nightmares.

The room wasn’t quiet anymore. Victoria’s heartbeats sang through the soundproofed walls, matching her irregular breathing.

Victoria wanted to scram. She wanted to scream for the pain she knew that was yet to come; for all the times she hadn’t scrammed while those walls watched her suffer; scream because she knew who was holding her, even before her voice had cut the silence.

“Please.” Victoria would never beg. Never plead, never ask. But in those dungeons, she wasn’t Victoria anymore. She was Alice’s favourite pray.

“What did I tell you about magic?” Alice hissed once again. Her voice was as sweet a child’s and yet as terrifying as the roar of a lion.

“Never to – “

“Never to use it” With a shout, Alice shoved Victoria to the chair she knew too well. It was made of dark wood, mistreated by time and the whip that Alice liked to use so much. It was strategically placed in the middle of the room, facing the only way out; a big tunnel that Victoria knew would lead her to freedom. Knowing that and not being able to do anything was Alice’s wicked punishment.

Victoria fell on the harsh wood with a groan, immediately followed by one of Alice’s slaps in the face. The ones in which Victoria winched in pain before everything else started; the blood, the terrible pain that came from the laminated whip’s lashes, the tears that clouded Victoria’s eyes like tortured diamonds.

“I guess I’ll have to teach you the lesson one more time!” Alice smirked, her hand hovering above the electric, red whip that had been marking Victoria’s skin for as long as she could remember.

The only thing Victoria could hope for was Alice’s mercy.


	3. Chapter 3

The feeling wasn’t new to Victoria. Every time, it was like nothing had happened. Her mind would be at peace and her body relaxed. And for a moment, just a delusional and irrational moment, she thought the pain wouldn’t come. But it does. It always comes back so why would that time be different? Why would she be spared from the consequences of her crimes?

 As predicted, the pain eventually came. It took her body less than a second to realize it should be aching and burning under the red marks spread all over her body, though Victoria knew none of them were visible. Alice was always careful with which parts of Victoria’s body to hurt. Her arms and legs were usually bare white, unlike her stomach and back that were always bruised after one of those encounters. Painted with Alice’s whips of rage and hunger for Victoria’s pleading screams.

 Finally, persuaded by the unfamiliar light that passed through her closed eyes, Victoria let herself come back from darkness. It took her a few minutes to get used to the direct sun light that contracted her pupils. The glassed ceiling played with the light, creating a dim rainbow that only lasted for a few seconds. Victoria came to the conclusion that she was in her room, the only part of the Institute with glass as a ceiling. According to the position of the light it was probably late afternoon.

 “It was about time”

 If the voice weren’t so familiar to her, Victoria would have probably been startled by the sudden sound.

 “How long have I been asleep?” Victoria asked, slowly getting up. Her muscles felt sore and tired though she had probably slept through the night and part of the following day. It was always hard to precise just how long Alice kept her in the dungeon. 

 “A few hours” Peter replied.

 Victoria tried not to wince in pain as she finally sat up, her back facing the headboard of her double bed. A little groan came from her throat as she tried to find a comfortable position for her body and she could see, by the corner of her eye, the way Peter’s lips seemed to compress in a straight line. That expression glorified the scar he had across his left cheek, tracing a red line between his jaw and cheekbone.

 Peter always knew there was something wrong, but Vitoria would never tell him what really happenes when she disappears for a couple hours now and then.

 “Mrs Daly took you to the infirmary. She didn’t know what to do; you wouldn’t wake up for anything, so she called Alice.” The mention of Alice’s name under the epithet of her saviour, made Victoria shift a bit. “We left you two alone and waited outside for a bit. After a few minutes Mrs Daly and I decided to just leave you two to be and went downstairs. A couple hours later, Alice asked me to take you here”

Victoria could feel in Peter’s voice just how much he didn’t get of the story he was telling. From the outside, all those dead hours would surely be a motive of suspicion. But Peter, just like Victoria, had always been taught not to question Alice’s actions or choices.

 Layer by layer, Peter stripped Victoria from her own shields. The ones she rose especially for her best friend.

 “I can see what you’re trying to do” Victoria said at last, breaking the silence established between them. “Nothing happened, I swear.” It was hard to lie to someone that knew Victoria inside and out; but wasn’t lying. It was almost like Victoria was making fun of Peter and his capacity to read her.

 “Then could you please explain me what was Alice doing in the infirmary for so long? Why do you seem to disappear from time to time?” Peter’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t the one Victoria was used to either.

 “I just wonder around, that’s all”

 “Don’t’ lie!” He shouted.

 That made Victoria snap her head up, alarmed by the tone in Peter’s voice. He wasn’t one to shout about one little thing.

 “I’m not lying. I swear by -” Victoria started.

 “Don’t you dare to swear under Raziel’s name!” Peter interrupted. He was up on the floor, the chair where he sat by her bedside completely forgotten. The words were spilled with a hardness that was unknown to Victoria. Peter, who had always been so sweet and understanding to her, was now losing it. “I saw them. Your shirt lifted a bit while I was putting you in bed.”

 That made Victoria straight up. Though she hadn’t seen them yet, she was sure her stomach and back were full of reddish marks, soon to become a wired mix of purple and other colours.

 Peter had seen the marks, the lessons that Alice so desperately wanted Victoria to learn and so deliciously taught.

 “What are those?” Peter’s voice was lower now. “Please tell me what has been hurting you. Is it Ali – “

 “No!” Victoria didn’t let him finish. It was easier to lie when the truth wasn’t complete. “Alice has nothing to do with this.”

 It wasn’t worth it to lie for Alice, but fear always speaks louder. The burns in her body were still fresh, the memories too young to ignore. As long as there was a wound, the fear would always be there.

 “Then what is it? You can trust me.”

 Victoria knew as much. I she had to trust her life to someone, or a secret like that, that person would be Peter. But that was more about protecting the one thing right in her life other than anything else. Separate Peter, the part of her that wasn’t damaged, from everything else. Victoria couldn’t let those two worlds of hers collide.

 Realizing that Victoria wouldn’t say a word about those empty hours, or the marks that covered her body after it, Peter nodded and turned to the door. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” He said before getting out.

 The old windows trembled under the wooden door slamming shut.  

 After that, the whole room went silence apart from the big clock just above Victoria’s bed, counting the seconds that passed in which she couldn’t move. Peter had left mad at her, and who knows how long that can last. She couldn’t lose Peter just to protect the story under her bruised skin and damaged mind.

 A sudden fury started to run through her body, heating each bit of blood running in her veins. Victoria could feel her own magic waking up, alert and uncontrollable as it started flowing, guided by a sudden wish to avenge herself and her liberty.

 Victoria moved her head to her left side where a big mirror framed by a pattern of tangled wooden flowers rested in the wall closer to her. She could see the way her eyes stared at her figure; burning in anger and hate, her cat shaped pupils swallowing the blue that surrounded them. Victoria could see her jaw contracting, her lips pursing; the reflexion of a soul marked by pain and hate. 

 Finally, the magic inside her reached its boiling point and, with a loud growl, Victoria destroyed her own image, breaking it into a rain of glowing powder. The wood that surrounded the mirror fell onto the floor intact. It hadn’t been Victoria’s intention to destroy such piece but she felt a lot better after it.

 After a couple minutes of catching her breath, Victoria got up from her bed. It still hurt to move, but she ignored it. Physical pain could be forgotten as long as the mind was occupied. And Victoria’s was rushing busy with the bit of anger and the large amount or resentment that was left.

 Leaving the broke forgotten powdered mirror on the floor, Victoria waved her hands, surrounding herself with her own magic as she made her way to the bedroom door. She could feel it penetrating her own skin, reaching her muscles and bones, healing them the best way her deficient but powerful magic could.

 By the time the blue fog had vanished in thin air, Victoria felt stronger than ever. Apart from the physiological scars that would never disappear, her body didn’t hurt anymore.  Alice would never let her heal herself with magic. She would have to handle the pain with the auxiliary of runes, or embrace it like a mundane. Never take care of it as the warlock she was.

 Guided by the sound of her own feet tapping the Institute’s floor, Victoria made her way to the lower floor. As she reached the final step of the staircase, her eyes immediately spotted a tall blond figure just a couple feet away. Alice had her arms crossed and stared Victoria with an intense gaze.

 “You’re not wincing enough for my taste.” Alice said

  In that moment, Victoria knew that Alice knew. She could have healed herself with a rune, but Alice knew she hadn’t. Maybe it was the hint of fury in Victoria’s eyes that gave her away. Whatever it was, Victoria was grateful for it.

 “I have a couple tricks in my sleeve.” Victoria said in the softest tone allowed to her own anger, stopping right in front of Alice. She could see the surprise in Alice’s eyes when Victoria didn’t deny what was specifically implied by Alice moulded words.

 “And what are those?”

 Victoria raised her hand in front of her, palm facing the ceiling like she was asking for something. A ball of blue magic erupted in there, forming a mass of energy. “Myself”


	4. Chapter 4

Standing in front of Victoria was an imposing and authoritarian figure. Just like Victoria herself, Alice never gives away here emotions. There was a wall blocking anyone that tried to see further into her, get to know what hides those eyes that carry the burden of eternal bitterness.

  “Am I supposed to be impressed or freighted?” Alice tilted her head to the side, a grin curled in her lips, softening her harsh and somehow amusing look. “I’m not afraid of a freak’s magic.”

 For years, Victoria believed that the eyes that carefully studied each one of her flaws on the other side of the mirror, cat eyed shaped - probably a gift from the warlock that could had been her parent -  were a curse that she would have to hide under piles of practice and knowledge of the Children of Raziel’s culture.

 “Magic is mine just as much as the power of the runes is.” Victoria said.

 The words were out before she could think about it or even hold it, curl them in the tip of her tongue. Her stele seemed to burn her skin through the tight fabric of her jeans where it was trapped by her boot next to the dagger Peter had gave her in her tenth birthday and that has been with her ever since. It was different from the hot pulsing fire of which her energy was made of, desperately searching for release.

 “You shouldn’t be allowed to have such power! The runes are a gift of Raziel to its children, which you aren’t. You’re an abomination that nature never meant to create.” Alice didn’t shout or snap. She was as calm as she was when explaining some kind of complicated rune to Victoria. That soft voice only makes it more frightening.

 “But I’m here, am I not? I guess nature could have already killed me if it really meant to. It had so many chances and it never took one. I guess that means something, doesn’t it.” Victoria said. She could control her voice better than her emotions as they competed with her beating heart.

 Never before had Victoria dared to stay before Alice with such posture. Although it was refreshing to finally impose her own ideals, the mere thought of what Alice could do to her was terrifying. The only thing keeping Victoria’s head from bowing in submission and her eyes drop to the floor under her feet was the reminder of Peter’s eyes, betrayed and disappointed.

 Alice’s lips curled in a smirk that Victoria knew way too well. That grin always comes hand in hand with pain and nightmares. It was one of the few things that had the power to make Victoria flinch. “Nature does want you dead. You’re alive because of the Clave. Because despise the freak you are, when your train’s complete, you’ll actually be handy in battle. That’s why you’re here, remember?”

 “I’m not a weapon!” Victoria snapped easily. She refused to be objectified like that. To accept that her life depended on her skills on filed rather than her rightful entitlement to life. “I’m a Shadowhunter, just like you are. I just happen to…”

 Victoria never finished her thought, being thrown across the room by Alice’s strong arms and landing with a painful slam into the edge of the well-crafted fireplace. Victoria was still sore from Alice’s whip, her back certainly covered in thin red lines that were invisible to the casual eye. The impact made her groan in pain, giving Alice a temporary satisfaction.

 “You happen to be a stubborn girl who doesn’t understand how grateful she should be for being alive. For being given a second chance to live and do the right thing.” Alice said almost in between teeth as she approached Victoria’s screaming body on the floor. She gripped Victoria’s jaw in her rough hand and made her look up to her poisoned grey eyes. “Do you know why you weren’t killed as soon as you were found in my doorstep?” Alice asked a bit more softly now. “Because, though the Clave could immediately tell that you were created by magic, though you’re probably the impossible product of a Shadowhunter a Warlock’s drunken night, you’re still powerful. You’re an abomination with a couple perks, that’s all.”

 Tears are shame and shame is something that Victoria couldn’t afford to feel. However, one can’t control it when pain and fear gather in the form of salty water that wets burning cheeks and washes bravery away. Because if there was something that Alice taught her, was that bravery is the contrary of tears. However, her vision was blurred with Alice’s version of cowardness, though Victoria never felt more bravely strong.

 With rage and determination guiding her movements, Victoria rose from her own heels and stood tall before Alice. She too was a tall and a threatening figure, but she wasn’t able to scare Victoria in that moment. Victoria dared to believe that nothing could.

 “You know what?” Victoria asked with as much calm as she managed to reunite. However, her body wasn’t as well behaved as her mind as she grabbed Alice by the neck and shoved her against one of the windows displaying the typical London, rainy day. “I don’t care if I’m a nature’s abomination, if my parents went through Hell to create me only to abandon me when they realized what I was, or even if you hate my guts! I’m still a person and I’m still much more powerful than you are!”

 Alice didn’t have fear in her eyes. That would be better than the anger that stare back at Victoria, so close that it was the only thing she could see; wide dark pupils that swallowed the grey involving them. Victoria preferred fear over anger. She was looking for to feed herself with it, starting to understand why Alice liked to punish her so much. Powerful can be such a deliciously dangerous feeling. 

 “You want to kill me? Go ahead” Alice said, choking in her own words. With the aid of magic that Victoria couldn’t control, her grip on Alice’s throat tighten to the point where Alice was red rather than fair white. “But if I’m going by your hands, at least give me dignified death”

 Muffled by the sound of the rain, Victoria could hear it as Alice slid under her grip and to the floor. Her hand caught Victoria’s dagger, sliding it through Victoria’s worn out jeans and to her opened hand. Alice closed Victoria’s grip around it and Victoria found herself not caring if she used it to ease her pain.

 However, instead of guiding it to her own chest as Victoria had naively predicted, Alice’s hand guided Victoria’s towards her own body with a squished shout and aiming to her own heart. Alice’s strength was slowly draining from her body, not making it good for her aim. The dagger only kissed Victoria’s arm, still splitting some blood. It was red and pulsing, just like Alice’s, or any other Shadowhunter’s must be.

 “Do you really want to kill me? Disobey the Clave and be a shame to them?” Victoria asked in a whisper as she easily took the dagger away from Alice’s hand a dropped it to the ground to rest. Her grip was tighter at each second, threating in to make Alice’s strong but narrow body explode. Victoria wanted to stop; she didn’t want to be a killer. But deep down she knew that was her only chance to make things right, to prove that she wasn’t just a weapon, or a soldier in a war yet to come.

 It wasn’t until Alice’s body dropped to the floor that Victoria knew she was dead. Victoria’s hands still glowed with blue energy though it was slowly fading to nothing as it returned to the deepest parts of Victoria’s mind. She stared down at her hands - the hands of a murderer, with wide eyes. That hasn’t what Victoria wanted, not really!

 Victoria never had a panic attack in her life, so she couldn’t know if she was having one as she simply stared down at her bloodless hands. Death and blood might be allies in wars fought with soldiers, shields and swords, but the ones that demand to be fought in life itself are clean and free of war cries. Sometime they’re silent and no one from the outside notices them. People don’t go to their windows and shout for their favourites, simply because they’re oblivious to the other’s daily battles.

 “Victoria?” Peter’s voice sounded in a little corner in Victoria’s mind. She could hear that voice in an alarmed shout, echoing in the walls of a dark tunnel as it approached her, getting louder and louder by the second. Hands too seemed to hug her and she could swear to hear some sort of drum, played by someone in a hurry, or very angry. The beats were irregular and fast.

 Next thing she knows, Victoria’s screaming against Peter’s chest. Tears, angry and scared ones, jumped out of her eyes and wet Peter’s shirt. She could hear the fast drumming of her best friend’s heart through it as he stroked her hair and hushed words of comfort. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay” Peter said, though Victoria was sure he didn’t believe in his own words. She could feel his accelerated breath and, even if she couldn’t see it, Victoria was sure that Peter was staring at Alice’s lifeless body with wide and scared eyes. If that fear came from what she had done or the consequences of it, Victoria couldn’t tell.

 “I got to get out of here.” Victoria said, her voice muffled by the fabric of Peter’s dark green t-shirt.

“Look at me! Look at me, Victoria!” Peter asked as he took each side of her face into his hands and made her stare his deep green eyes. “You’re right; you have to get out of here. The Clave can’t know what happened, you have to hide.”

 Victoria couldn’t do much but nod. Involuntary, her eyes would follow the invisible track left by her magic and to Alice’s body on the ground. Seeing it in there, completely still and never to move again assaulted Victoria’s eyes with hysterical tears. That death was on her and her own magic.

“Hey!” Peter called in a shout, gripping Victoria’s jaw and turning her face to him, earning a sob from her. “Don’t look at her! There’s nothing in there, okay? There’s nothing there, just the carpet. Do you hear me, are we clear?” Victoria nodded. “You stay here and make a portal to the first place you can think of. One where we can hide until we figure this whole thing out, decide what our next move will be. I’ll be packing upstairs, I won’t take more than five minutes, okay? Can you do this?”

It was like Victoria was listening Peter through a filter that only allowed her to listen to a few words from time to time, but she heard enough to nod in comprehension. She took a deep breath to calm herself a bit, but it resulted in a series of other small breaths. It was working though. Victoria could feel her muscles slowly relaxing.

“That’s my girl. I’ll be right back.” Peter said and left a kiss on top of Victoria’s forehead. He then ran upstairs, leaving Victoria alone with the woman she killed.

 Victoria looked around as she cleaned her tears. There weren’t many places where she could build a portal. The room had a big sofa in the middle, red and black, facing a fire place that never met the warmth of flames. On the right side of the room there were curtains blocking the little light that rainy day provided. However, there was a bare wall on Victoria’s left side. It was painted in dark brown, resembling wood.

 With steady steps, Victoria made her way to that wall, leaving Alice behind. With a deep breath, she raised her hand and placed them against the wall, feeling the flawless texture of paint under her palms. Peter had told her to think about a place that would be safe for them, but Victoria didn’t know any. She had never been more than a couple miles away from the Institute, camping with Peter or shopping for groceries with Mrs. Daly. It pained her to leave her behind, but she couldn’t think about her now. Soon the Clave would be there to kill her, but she trusted Mrs. Daly to be smart enough to get out of there as soon as she finds Alice’s body on the ground with no one else around. Victoria could only hope for the best.  

 Instead of thinking about a place, Victoria focused on safety itself. She went to the deepest parts of her and brought back what the word meant for her. Vicotria had no idea if that would work, but it was the best idea she got. Besides, Victoria must had been doing something right since the portal started to from before her own, wide eyes. There was so much energy coming from it, not like the previous ones she had created for practice.

 “I’m back, let’s get out of here!” Peter called as he ran to her with two bags on his shoulder. Victoria recognized the blue backpack she kept in the back of her closet.

 “The portal is ready” She announced, hoping that would do the trick.

 “Let’s go then.”

 Still not sure if Peter should trust her magic so much, especially after what happened, Victoria took his hand in hers so they wouldn’t get lost in the depths of their own minds and jumped inside.

 Without noticing it, both Victoria and Peter were landing in front of a gate in a matter of seconds. The portal had worked, but Victoria didn’t know where she was. The street behind them was loud as cars passed by without seeming to notice the giant building panted in that very spot. It was enormous and dark, a castle lost in the XXI century. The surroundings had a well-treated garden full of flowers and fresh grass, the kind of place where fairies would like to live, Victoria guessed. 

 “Where are we?” Victoria asked as she stared the building in front of her with wide, curious eyes. That had to belong to the Shadowhunters, she could see through the glamour.

 “This is the New York Institute.” Peter said without having to think too much. “I read about it. Too many things happened in here for the last twenty years or so. The people that live here were too involved in the mortal war with Valentine.” Peter turned to Victoria “I don’t think this is the safest place for us.”

 Victoria wasn’t listening though. Her brain had frozen when Peter mentioned New York. If that were true, then she had managed to cross the ocean through a portal created with her own hands.

  “I don’t think an Institute is the safest place for us either, but we have no other choice. If we’re careful, we can stay here for a couple days without looking suspicious.” Victoria said as she put a glamour on her eyes so they would appear dark brown instead of bright blue and cat like shaped. However, because she would be dealing with Shadowhunters, she strengthened it with a bit of magic so anyone could get pass it.

 “We can’t risk it.” Peter said with a bit of an alarmed tone. “We have to get into the safest place we can, otherwise why do we even try to…”

 Peter’s speech was cut by the heavy sound of an opening door. At the end of the stoned walk to the front door was man. “Too late” Victoria thought to herself; the man with dark hair, bright blue eyes and a harsh look on his face was too close now and could certainly hear each word they say.

 “Who are you?” The man asked as he studied Peter and Victoria. She didn’t like the way he looked at them, like they were some kind of criminals instead of Shadowhunters in possible distress.

 Surprisingly, it was Peter who replied first. “I’m Peter and this is my friend…”

 “Tori - Torianna” Victoria interrupted. The Clave would be looking for both of them, but she was their main target. After all, she was the dangerous freak that needed to be slaughtered before she could kill someone else. “And you are…”

 The man stood tall before them, his hands resting behind hid back. “Alec Lightwood” He said. “Head of the Institute”


End file.
